


The Tent of Infinite Adventure

by peacehopeandrats



Series: Growing Up [9]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling June 2020 (Once Upon A Time), Adventure, F/M, Family, Fluff, Gen, Missing Years, Monthly Rumbelling, Unknown Realm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24740938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacehopeandrats/pseuds/peacehopeandrats
Summary: The first time Gideon gets to use a magic bean he sends his family to a fair in an unknown realm. There they meet a magician who has a special tent that transports the Golds into their own great adventure.Yet again this is the beginning of a Monthly Rumbelling fic, prompted by the June 2020 moodboard, but first prompted by the round 2 prompts of Rumbelle Showdown 2020. I couldn't say that before because I couldn't suggest that I was participating, but when I saw the prompts I would have gotten (aphrodisiac; room full of chests)  this story instantly came to mind and I wrote it, intending to hold on to it until today. When Monthly Rumbelleing gave me this mood board I was able to expand the story and I'm so very glad I did! (Because I am expanding as I go the room full of chests is in a future chapter, already written.)Nominated for Best Travel in the 2021 TEAs.Thank you.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: Growing Up [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1035851
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I went with a corny title for this one. What can I say, I enjoyed it so much I couldn't stop myself. Full disclosure, this story is also very loosely based on the idea behind the book The Night Circus, where there are tents like this. It's a good one.
> 
> The June Monthly Rumbelling post is here: https://a-monthly-rumbelling.tumblr.com/post/619751487004934144/prompts-for-june

Gideon stared at the magic bean that his father had given him. The inner depths sparkled as a ray of sunlight pushed through the clear outer casing and bounced around, casting flicks of light that hinted at the magic within. He tore his eyes from the brilliance of it and glanced up at his papa, eyes as wide as if he were still a young child marveling at the wonders of the universe. “You’re certain, Papa?” His voice cracked when he tried to use it, a casualty of his impending journey to adulthood.

“Of course I am, Gideon.” His father smiled and reached up to place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “You can take us wherever you wish to go.”

Even with his father’s blessing, Gideon felt doubt suddenly consume him. Magic was something wonderful, but it could be dangerous too. He told himself that he wasn’t _really_ using magic, just directing it. Portals were common forms of transport that took their magic from the item, not the person. All he had to do was think of where he wanted to be and throw the bean to the ground, but it was a much bigger responsibility than most realized. There were so many variables involved in magic. He couldn’t just hope to end up at the ocean, he had to know if they would walk out onto a sandy shore, a rocky cliff, or stride along the deck of a ship. One mistake and they would be swimming. Or at least, that was the weight of responsibility that his own mind placed on the task ahead of them.

“We trust you,” his mother said as she took his free hand and squeezed it. 

He shook his head and tried to hold the bean out to his parents. “I’m… I’m not ready.”

Rumplestiltskin moved to face him, taking his shoulders in a firm grip and meeting his eyes. The gaze was stern and strong, but held no anger, simply radiated belief and determination. “It’s one of the most basic types of magic, son. Simply hold the bean and tell it where you want to go. Don’t make it complicated. You don’t even need to know the world you’re traveling to. It will find the way for you.”

“I know, but what if I don’t know where I want to go?” Though he blinked at his father, it was his mother that answered.

“What are you in the mood for?” Her hand squeezed his again. “Make your choice just as you would for any other journey. Imagine Lexington has come up to you and asked what you wanted to do this evening.”

That wasn’t a hard question to answer. It had been ages since their family had attended any type of festival or fair and he clung to the idea of suddenly being able to walk forward and find booths filled with delicious food interspersed with carnival games and craft stalls. He could smell the sweetness in the air, hear the laughter as children and adults tried their luck to win prizes. There was a distinct zing of a sword and the clopping of hooves on hard-packed dirt, followed by cheers and applause. A performance? A test of a knight’s abilities, perhaps? Gideon didn’t know, but he _wanted_ to see it all.

Finally ready he looked up at his parents and nodded. “I know where we’re going,” he told them with a certainty that he both felt and wasn’t sure of.

His father nodded and released him. “Toss the bean.”

Gideon closed his eyes, clinging to the sensations that had come to him only moments before, then he swung his arm and released the bean into the air. When the whirl of wind and fizz of magic filled the space, he opened his eyes to see the swirling portal, ready and waiting for them to enter.

“Let’s go to our next adventure,” his mother told him, giddy with excitement. Belle reached out with her free hand to grasp his father’s and pulled the two of them forward until the realm they were standing in wasn’t the same any more.

* * *

Belle’s eyes widened at the sight before them. They stood on a hill overlooking farmland so vast that it stretched past where the eye could see, yet instead of wheat or rows of vegetables, the ground below the hill was covered in colorful tents. A road leading up to the area had been transformed into a river of people, some on horseback, some pulling hand carts, some with farm animals pulling small covered wagons packed to overflowing. Music danced along on a breeze that also carried the scent of warm spices and roasted meats with it and the combination almost yanked her forward in a mindless desire to join the throng in their merriment.

“Well done, Gideon,” Rumple said. She turned to see him grinning widely, an expression that was mirrored on their son’s face.

Gideon spun to look at both of them. “Can we go?” His eyes were as round as saucers and sparkled with glee. “Please, Papa?”

Rumple laughed. “This destination was your choice,” he answered. “What kind of a father would I be to give you the journey only to deny you the experience?”

Letting out a whoop of excitement, Gideon leapt into the air and bolted off toward the fair’s nearest entrance. Though she knew it was useless to do so, Belle called out after his rapidly vanishing back, just as she always did. “Don’t go in without us!” There was no reaction from Gideon, but she knew he heard her _and_ that he would stop at the threshold to wait, if impatiently, for the two of them to follow.

“Should have known he’d bring us to a festival,” Rumple told her as she linked her arm in his. “We should try and find more on our travels. They bring him so much joy and he’ll outgrow them soon enough.”

Belle shook her head at him as they walked after Gideon. She could tell Rumple was forcing himself into a leisurely pace and knew their son wasn’t the only one looking forward to a day spent in celebration. “I don’t think he could ever outgrow a fair,” she told him. It was tempting to tease Rumple, point out that he was just as excited about the prospect of a day among the tents as his son was, but the number of people around them was increasing and the press of bodies would have taken the fun away from any remark she made. Instead she squeezed his arm and nudged him toward a Gideon so eager to enter that he was, quite literally, hopping from foot to foot.

The trio moved on together, Gideon now keeping pace with them, though his head spun in every direction to take in everything that he could. He pointed out stalls of sweets and tents filled with smoke from the roasting of vegetables over open flames, he had them pause at a jeweler’s and whispered something to his father, pointing at the wares, then hurried down the lane to beg for a jar of honey that was flavored with a hint of citrus fruit. Every temporary structure held a treasure and every new discovery brightened his smile. Belle could almost believe they had been transported to a realm where worries could never exist.

Wide paths branched out from the central courtyard in every direction, each row of stalls radiating from the midpoint. Though they weren’t always laid out in a straight course, every thoroughfare ended in some sort of arena filled with seating, some with platforms for the performers, others opening out to cleared spaces in the field, where jousting and combat competitions were being held. They paused to watch a hunting demonstration, dogs and birds hitting targets and returning on command, and finally gave in to Gideon’s bottomless stomach, eating delicious stews in thick bread bowls before picking up their wandering again.

Gideon stopped at a small tent at the end of one row, mouth hanging open as he stared at the posted sign. “Look!” He called out to them, pointing at the flowing script as he read it. “Welcome to the Tent of Infinite Adventure, where the magical world of treasures awaits your discovery. Come test your skills in combat and the magical arts.” He spun on his toes and grinned at them. “It’s adventuring! Can we go?”

Beside her, Belle felt Rumple tense. “I don’t know, son,” he said after a breath. “Magic is-”

“Oh, you don’t need magic in there,” piped up a man as he left the tent’s entrance. “I provide all of that myself. It’s a game, really. Nothing but harmless fun.”

Belle glanced at Rumple, then at the man in front of them. “How does it work?”

“Simple. Just inside is a changing room. You pick whatever gear you desire for your journey and then move through the tent. Each room will provide you with a challenge and reward you with items for the rest of your journey. When you make your way out again, you return the gear to the changing room and keep whatever treasure you have earned.”

“Sounds amazing,” Belle whispered. She tried to peer into the tent, but her eyes met only darkness. “How long does it take?”

“As long as you need it to,” the man told her. “The magic senses your desire. Some stay for only a short time, others for nearly a day, but it will always guide you out before evening.”

Gideon turned to look at them and his face fell. “Papa?” 

Belle followed her son’s gaze and her heart sank when she saw her husband’s expression. His eyes were filled with torments, jaw clenching as his teeth gnashed together the way they always did when he was facing his most difficult decisions. “Rumple,” she whispered while gripping his arm gently. “We don’t have to go.”

He shook his head. “You and Gideon will enjoy it.”

There was more to it than that. She knew that as certainly as she knew anything. Belle guided him a few paces from the tent’s entrance and reached up to caress his face. Gideon rushed to join them, his hand hovering just shy of grasping his father’s arm. “Tell me,” she insisted gently.

Rumple looked from his family to the tent. “The magic in there is powerful. Harmless, but…” He sighed and met her eyes, his gaze intense with concern. “I’m afraid of what I’ll do with so much available to me,” he admitted at last. “That much power.. It would be like an aphrodisiac. It would feed my old addictions. I can already feel it here, pulling at me. If I go inside and become lost in the moment-”

“That won’t happen, Papa,” Gideon insisted, hand now firmly grasping Rumple’s arm. “You’re strong. And the man said the journey would take as long as we wished. If the magic is too tempting, we will simply end the game. Won’t we, mother?”

Belle nodded emphatically. “Yes.” She smiled as she draped her arms around Rumple’s neck and gazed into his eyes. “I believe in you. We both do. But if you want to leave, we will.” 

“I can’t deny either of you, this happiness” Rumple said at last in a long sigh of a breath that ended with a timid smile. “We’ll go.”

* * *

Once their entry was paid by his father, Gideon rushed into the tent, ready for anything. The man who had taken their coins had been less than helpful explaining what they should expect. He knew the first room would contain equipment and clothing, but that was all. There were no instructions, no hints at how to play the game. The rush of excitement that came to him at the thought of the unknown was beautifully overwhelming. He wanted to hold on to it forever.

Inside he found a small space with a single, massive chest set beside a reading pedestal. Predictably, his mother reached for the book on its stand, so he decided to open the chest. The lid creaked as he lifted it, revealing a bow and empty quiver, a simple glass bottle with a large belt pouch, a knife, one long stick, two shorter sticks, a small shield, and two sheathed blades, made to be one or two handed weapons. Carefully he lifted the smaller of the two swords and drew it out to test its weight in his hand. As he stared at it, the metal morphed and shifted, adjusting to his grip and balancing its own weight into a new formation. The sensation was startling and he yelped as he dropped the blade, letting it clatter to the ground.

“What’s the matter, son?” His father was at his side instantly, staring into the chest and then scanning the ground as if some offending creature lurked in the mix of dust and straw at their feet.

Gideon pointed at the sword. “It just… started moving.”

His father gripped the handle and lifted it, watching as the blade contorted before him. “It’s magic,” he said once the blade settled. “There is a spell on this, probably on all of the supplies. It has been made to conform to the needs of the user. Prevents you from stumbling through the arena with an unfamiliar item.”

“And this,” said his mother as she pointed to the book in front of her. “Is a catalog of all of the clothing.”

A hum of pleasure escaped his father as he glanced at the page Belle indicated. The image was that of a woman, dressed in knee high boots and darker brown pants that clung so tightly that they might as well be her skin. She wore a looser fitting tunic that billowed at the shoulders and barely passed her hips, the deep green fabric sewn in folds that puffed outward below a simple brown belt. A light blue cloak was drawn to the side, complete with hood.

“Perfect for adventuring,” Rumple said at last.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Only because the bottom layer doesn’t leave much for you to imagine.” It wasn’t only the curves of leg and hip that were obvious, the cut of the neckline seemed more designed for the wandering eyes of fellow adventurers than practicality.

“I know it is an unpopular opinion, but I happen to like your mother in dark greens,” his father shot back playfully, blatantly ignoring the accusation all together.

“Then I’ll take this one,” Belle said. Instantly her clothing was transformed, morphing into the tight fitting outfit that was on the page. It ignored the cloak and she shrugged when she realized it, glancing down at herself to study the fit of what she did wear before looking up for an opinion.

Both Gideon and his father were speechless, mouths open, eyes wide. This was a side of his mother that Gideon had never seen. He had always known she was bold and brave and that she could stand her own if it came to a struggle, but he had never imagined her as someone so very powerful. The clothing gave her a look of intensity that was almost overwhelming yet fitted her perfectly.

As time passed the fierce determination shifted to a hint of doubt as her head tipped to the side as her lip tucked into her teeth. Eyes wide with curiosity, she looked at Rumple with a hint of nervousness and Gideon had to nudge his father in the back to remind him to speak.

“You are stunning,” Rumple whispered once pushed back from wherever his mind had gone. 

Belle smiled, eyelashes batting briefly in an attempt at bashfulness. “Thank you.” The words were overly polite.

“I’ll just pick out my own,” Gideon announced loudly as he walked to the podium. “With my back to the two of you. It could take a while, of course…”

Behind him, Gideon heard laughter, then a kiss and murmurs of affection. From that point on his ears tuned out whatever his parents were doing, used to the way their affections progressed. He flipped page after page as he waited for them to stop admiring each other, debating the type of armor he should wear. There was every type imaginable, from hard, studded leather and chain mail, to full suits of metal. He found elements of some that he preferred over others, but came to the end of the book without making any decisions.

In the end he chose to test the limits of the book’s magic, he flipped through again, returning to a chest plate he’d admired. The shoulder guards that came with it weren’t all that bad, he decided, and the protection around the hips seemed sturdy, yet would allow movement if they hung on him as they did in the image. He wasn’t fond of the rest and balked at the idea of wearing a helmet, but this would do.

“Um,” he whispered as he put a finger on what he wanted. “This for the top, regular adventuring gear for the rest? With sturdier boots?”

Gideon closed his eyes and waited for there to be a shift of magic around him, but felt nothing. He sighed and stepped back from the book, then heard the clank of metal armor and opened his eyes wide.

“A shining knight?” His father’s question moved around him until the man faced him, nodding appreciatively.

Everything Gideon had imagined was easily settled over his body. Heavy chest armor covered a cream tunic and was accented with thick leather gloves and a comfortable neck guard. His pants were made of the same thick leather as his clothes and he wore metal from knee to ankle, along with a pair of solid boots.

“I guess so,” he told his father. “I wanted a sword. I thought this was best to go with it.”

“Take the shield too,” Belle cautioned him as she nodded at the chest and Gideon eagerly complied.

Once he was fully prepared, he glanced from the chest to his parents and back again. “What are you taking?”

His mother reached in and lifted the small knife along with the empty bottle and its protective pouch. “I think I’ll try magic,” she told him, though it sounded more of a question than a certainty. “See what it feels like.”

They both turned to his father, who gave an uneasy smile of acceptance before pulling himself to his full height and reaching for the bow and quiver. “If we have a magician and a warrior, I suppose we’ll need something a little different,” he told them. Spreading his arms wide, he then spoke to no one. “Something for an archer and my wife prefers me in tight leather pants.”

“Rumple!” His mother made an attempt to protest, but her blush revealed the pleasure she truly felt in his decision.

What appeared before them was a Rumplestiltskin clad in his usual browns, creams, and whites. He wore a white shirt with brown padded leather for armor, the collars of both reaching up to brush his hair. The buttons at his chest were opened slightly, revealing skin that wasn’t often visible. It was a simple selection that should offer him both protection and practicality, and Gideon thought it made him look heroic, but he couldn’t tell if his mother was pleased or put off by the slightness of the change.

As if reading her thoughts, his father approached her, pulling her to his chest and breathing in to her hair. “If you wanted the man I was, I can give that to you. Scaled armor? The long red robe? The tan silk and amber vest?”

“No,” she whispered against him. “Those are all memories.”

Quite suddenly, his father pulled away. “What about this one?” He closed his eyes and his clothing shifted again, colors darkening to black. Now he wore a long leather overcoat, altered just enough to provide the freedom of movement that an archer would need. Beneath it was a black vest and dark shirt, still opened at the top of his chest.

Belle stepped forward and adjusted the collar, then ran her arms down the sleeves. “The day you came back to me.”

Gideon raised his eyebrows. “Which time?”

His father chuckled. “I’d gone to Neverland,” he said. “I thought I wasn’t coming back when I left and I wore… something like this when I returned. Of course at the time it was more armor and styled leather than utility...”

“You mean if your Neverland clothes and the ones you just changed out of had a baby, this is it?” Gideon turned his head one way and another as he took everything in.

“Something like that,” his father agreed. His smile opened as if he was going to say more, then drifted closed, lips returning to a more slack expression. “That was also when I found your brother.”

This news made Gideon swallow, throat contracting involuntarily at the image his imagination tried to conjure. He wished his brother were here with them, wished they could play two against two, offspring against adults. He’d seen pictures of Baelfire and tried to imagine his brother in adventuring gear, sword in hand, ready to explore along with them. It was a hard thing to let go of.

Rumple took a step forward, arms outstretched. “If it bothers you…”

“No,” Gideon insisted. “I just… I know you both miss him. I do too, sometimes. Even if I never knew him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course it does. Hearing about someone in your family that you’ve never met is hard enough as it is without also knowing that person is your older brother.” His mother wrapped him in a tight embrace as she spoke, squeezing him almost until he couldn’t breathe. “But he’s with us. Every time we think about him, he’s here. In our hearts and our memories.”

Extra pressure surrounded him then and Gideon realized his father had joined them, holding them and refusing to let go. They stood for a few heartbeats, silent and sorrowful, until his father spoke up. “This is where he’d ask us if we ever planned on going in.”

Gideon lifted his head to his parents and smiled. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

The small equipment room was partitioned from the rest of the tent by a simple flap of extra fabric, cut to perfectly cover the entrance to whatever lay beyond. There were no cracks to peek through, no way to glimpse what lay beyond. Gideon glanced at his parents as he reached for the opening, giving them time to check their equipment one last time. “Are we ready?” They both nodded and he raised his arm, parting the simple divider and granting them access to their new adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

The tent opened to a vast, young forest filled with tall, spindly trees. Rumple glanced down as he stepped under the open flap, taking in the crisp line between the straw flooring inside and the leafy ground that made up the forest floor. Packed dirt turned instantly into a soft combination of soil and debris, leaves crunching under the heel of his shoe. The change was surreal and made him turn back to where Belle was ducking under Gideon’s arm in order to cross the line between reality and fantasy. The interior of the tent was as he remembered, the faint sound of the fair beyond it reminding him of what they were leaving behind, but what they entered was simply marvelous.

He looked up at the sky and searched in every other direction for some sign that the magic here had a barrier, but he felt nothing. Yet the structure that was their way home was much larger than the single changing room they were leaving behind, grand enough to stable a coach’s worth of horses and give them plenty of room per stall. He wondered at the magic that created this place. When it was described, he’d imagined some sort of complex magical maze, shifting its form and shape to meet their needs, but now, with an entire realm before him, he wondered if the tent weren’t some sort of portal rather than a container of magical creations.

Every detail made up a perfect reality. Twigs snapped underfoot and insects and birds called out from their hidden locations. Even the leaves above him were so intricate that their newness cast the sun’s light in a yellowish tint that coated everything below.”It’s too perfect,” he whispered as he stepped forward.

“Wow.” Beside him, Belle stood, eyes wide. “There weren’t _any_ trees where we just came from. Did we go through a portal?”

“I was wondering the same thing.” Rumple stepped forward to touch the bark of a young sapling. It was solid, but he felt magic in it, a falseness that couldn’t be explained. “I think it’s an illusion. Like a form of glamor spell cast on the tent itself.”

Gideon hovered beside the tent, one foot inside, one out, his body keeping the flap from closing. “Do you think I should leave this open?” 

“The rules were that the tent would let us out when we were ready,” Rumple reminded his son. “I think it’s safe to let go.”

With a shrug, Gideon dropped the cloth, which shifted and waved as it settled, then vanished once it was properly in place. In an instant, the space beside him was empty. Blinking, he reached out to put a hand where they had just been and met no resistance. “Now where do we go?”

Belle took in a breath and glanced down at her empty glass bottle. “Well, I assume that when the time is right, we are going to be able to do something with this.”

“If this game is made in a series of quests, I imagine we will be given what we need along the way.” Rumple stepped up to her and ran his hand around her back to guide her into his side. “I’m sure the ingredients for whatever potions you will make must be somewhere here. Plenty of moss, insects, light…”

“And a big cat,” Gideon added quietly.

Rumple turned quickly in the direction his son was staring and easily located the giant black cat crouching in the distance. He reached for the quiver at his back and realized that at some time between their preparation in the tent and their entry into this new land, the container had filled itself with arrows. Nocking one easily, he aimed and let fly, hitting the cat squarely on the shoulder. The animal fell, but staggered to its feet and pressed forward.

Gideon raised his sword and shield next, moving to stand between his mother and the cat. The sight of him protecting her almost distracted Rumple from his next shot, but he forced his focus forward and managed to hit flesh, taking the cat down easily with the second arrow.

“Well aimed, Papa.” Gideon beamed over at him, but Rumple shrugged.

“It was too slow. An easy kill. I expect they will get harder as we move along.”

Giving no warning, Belle hurried forward, deftly swerving between saplings and thin trunks to reach the cat against the protests of Rumple and Gideon. She reached the carcass before either of them and began to run her hands over it, inspecting it for marks. The arrows drew no blood, proving that the creature was not truly made of flesh. Rumple moved to her side and watched as she withdrew an arrow to inspect it.

“Mother? What are you doing?” Gideon hurried to join them, head tilted to one side as he watched her work.

“Well, your father suggested we would find things along the way. I think that if the tent puts something in front of us we should make certain that there isn’t something we can use from it before we move on.” She pulled out the second arrow and her frown deepened as she stood up to hand both back to her husband. “I don’t think the blood of our enemies is meant to be used in any of my spells.”

Rumple chuckled, reaching a hand to tip her face up to his and kissed her tiny pout away. “We will find everything that we need just when we need it,” he assured her. “What kind of a game would this be otherwise?”

“I think…” Gideon stood up and scanned the area, eyes narrowed as if that would make his vision sharper. “I think we should treat everything in the woods as either hostile or friendly. Animals and things that can be killed should be, and people that are willing to talk to us might have something to offer as we make our way.”

“Good thinking,” Rumple nodded as he tipped his bow to indicate a thin line of packed dirt that wandered through the trees. “And I believe this is where we should start.”

* * *

The trees thinned as they walked through the forest, widening the path at their feet until it was large enough for horses and carriages. Rumple nodded ahead where paving stones were hidden under the fallen leaves, peeking out in seemingly random patterns that pulled the gray patches closer to each other with every step that was taken on them. “We might be headed to a city. We should look around and see what there is to trade.”

“We need a bag,” Belle told them as they walked on. “At _least_ one.”

“I was thinking to get one for each of us,” Rumple told her. “Unless you believe having something on your back will slow your fighting, Gideon.”

Gideon smiled over at his father. “Maybe something small. But… What do we have to trade? We need our equipment and we found nothing on the path that would be useful.”

Rumple gestured back the way they had come. “I expect that this game was designed so that everything we interact with has a purpose. The animals we hunted might be worth something to a butcher or tanner. Why else put them in our way?”

“But they’re back in the woods,” Gideon protested, gesturing wildly with his shielded arm. “If we have to carry them along with us and deliver them to a butcher, shouldn’t we go back for them now?”

“Ah,” Rumple teased, gesturing at Belle. “Your mother uses magic now. Who’s to say she can’t conjure up everything we left behind?”

Gideon tipped his head curiously. “If mother can simply snap her fingers and make everything we left behind appear at our feet what would we need a bag for?”

“Clearly the two of you haven’t traveled with each other recently,” Belle told them both, shooting playfully nasty looks at each of the men in her life as she strode on between them. “Let me give you a preview based on places we have been before.” She began an alternating banter, shifting her voice in a pale imitation of both her son’s and husband’s tones. “’Belle, can you get this thing for me?’ ‘Mother, do you know where this thing I want is?’ ‘Hold this for me, sweetheart, while I go with Gideon.’ ‘Mother, I’m hot. Can you take my cloak? Do you have the thing I gave you a while back? Not that thing, the other one.’ ‘Sweetheart, do you think you could-’”

“All right!” Both Rumple and Gideon laughed the words.

Rumple stopped walking and took one of Belle’s hands in his own. “If either of us bothers you with our endless harassment-”

“It’s not harassment,” Belle told him as she tucked hair behind her ear, knowing exactly what it would do to him. “Every woman has to keep up with the men in her life at some time or another. Actually, it’s a well known fact that our brains are simply built for it more than yours are.”

“Probably because of motherhood?” Gideon’s question was more of a scientific pondering, his scholarly mind turning at the mechanisms in his memory that would release an answer to his own inquiry. “Perhaps something to do with rounding up litters of young or being able to store food for when thef family could be hungry?”

“And I suppose you think men are only here to kill things,” Rumple grunted playfully.

Gideon shrugged. “We spread our genetics around to keep our families large.”

Belle shot a glare between her son and her husband. “I’m starting to regret our biology lessons. Do you think women can’t protect themselves and have _nothing_ to say about where their children are coming from?” She fought the smile that came as both Rumple and Gideon began to grow pale in front of her eyes, then let the sternness drift out of her voice as she turned to properly face them both. “All that _I_ know is that the two men in _my_ life have a tendency to rely on my ability to hold onto and keep track of _everything._ Your father has been doing that since the day I arrived in his castle.”

Rumple opened his mouth to protest, but Belle rested a finger on his lips to stop him. She didn’t want his feelings hurt and, in fact, felt a certain pride at being able to keep up with his magical items and every other knickknack they’d had in their possession since their days in the Dark Castle. “I am only saying that based off of how the two of you are, I think I’d be driven to exhaustion having to magic everything you gather on this journey into your hands whenever you need it. So when we get into the town I am finding a bag that will hold an infinite number of things, because I’d like the opportunity to use my spells for something other than motherlyness.”

“Motherlyness?” Gideon actually laughed. “Did you just make a word?”

“Not my best,” Belle admitted through a giggle of her own.

“But a feeling that needs a proper word,” Rumple told them both as he gestured ahead of them on the path.

* * *

Once they were inside the stone walls the noise of a busy city assailed them. Calls rang out over the cobbled streets, beckoning visitors to purchase supplies, food, or services. There was no rhyme or reason to the arrangement of vendors, simply a smattering of pop up tents or carts tossed onto the walkways, standing in front of already established shops, warehouses, and workshops. Gideon eyed everything with wonder, his mind trying to wrap around the magic that created so much detail inside a small, portable tent.

“Where do we even start?” His mother blinked down the road, mouth open in wonder.

“With a tanner,” Gideon told her, remembering his father’s comments from earlier. “Or a butcher. We killed eight cats on our way here. And half as many elk.”

His father nodded. “But don’t go barging in to the first one you see advertising our hopes to be their customers. We should investigate the whole of the town first, compare prices and weigh our options, _then_ offer our items to the shop with the best deals and make our purchases where the prices are lowest. If this is anything like the realms we are used to, no single store will have the same inventory or pricing system. We will go farther in the game if we can prepare properly here.”

Both Gideon and his mother nodded their agreement, but it was Belle who spoke. “We should each take a direction and meet back here when we’ve finished.”

Gideon chose the east road and began following it as soon as the family said their temporary goodbyes, leaving his parents to linger in each other’s arms as if they weren’t going to see each other for days. He was careful in his search, first examining the purpose of each cart and building he passed. If the shop in question contained armor, weapons, magical items, or purchased goods from the road, he investigated further, noting not only the prices of what was for sale, but inquiring about how much coin might be given for items turned in.

The investigation took about an hour and when he returned he rolled his eyes at his parents who seemed to be in exactly the same position as when he’d left.

“Done with the east road,” he called out as he approached, wishing his voice didn’t crack the announcement into two halves.

His parents parted and his papa smiled at him. “I was just about to have your mother cast a locator spell.” 

Gideon quirked his mouth up in a show of dubious belief. “I searched every shop. There is a butcher who seems to be giving a fair price for all local meats, but no tanner. Also one of the potion stalls had decent prices, but the fletcher seemed a bit high in his expectations.”

The Golds began a brief rundown of everything they found, moving to sit at the edge of a fountain where they wouldn’t hinder traffic and their conversation would be drowned out by the steady splash of water. 

In the end, they used a butcher on the western road to acquire their coin. Receiving payment for the carcases was as easy as confirming their kills, as the woman who owned the shop already knew how many of each animal lay in the woods beyond the gate. She asked how many of each they wished to be paid for and the family eagerly took payment for all of them, then spent their earnings at a fletcher’s in the northern quarter, and with the spell caster Gideon had found on the eastern road. To the south they discovered a bank, which gave away small, magical bags to new customers and they each happily opened an account.

Along the way, the family chatted with locals and picked up tips on locations where certain animals were plentiful, supplies for potions could be found growing wild in the land, and which towns ahead of them had needs for certain services. When they were done, Gideon left the walled city feeling like a true adventurer at his mother’s side. He closed his eyes and breathed in the feeling of it and held that sensation in until a hand on his shoulder startled him into breathing again.

“Where should we begin, son?” His papa’s voice was warm and happy in his ear while he leaned close and gestured into the woods that seemed to stretch to eternity. “An entire world awaits us, with people out there expecting our help.”

Gideon thought about everything they learned and all of the tasks put before them and quickly made a decision. “We’ll get our supplies first. Things for Mother’s potions and the other herbs the healer needed. Perhaps we will find places to hunt along the way.”

“Perfect.” His mother beamed at him, reaching out to squeeze him in to her side, then releasing him quickly, as if worried he would think himself too old for such displays of affection and support. “Which way?”

With a quick glance at the map in his hands, Gideon’s eyes lifted to scan the trees for a large stone that was the marker for their first quest. “That way,” he announced when he found it, and the family strode forward together.

* * *

“This.” Rumple said as he plucked a flower with a pink hue that blended from light at the edge to a rich magenta in the center. “This will make our health potions.”

Gideon pretended not to watch his mother feign ignorance of the world’s various magical elements and dipped his canteen into the cool stream in an effort to keep from rolling his eyes. His parents could turn anything and everything into a sexual interaction. Learning magic? Plenty of subtle glances and accidental touches. Spinning? Press close from behind as you guide each other’s hands, which was a stance that worked for just about everything else. Cooking, cleaning, packing, unpacking… He looked up again to see his mother’s lip stuck into her teeth and the fire in his father’s eyes and wondered if they could even turn an injury into something sweet and sensual. Twisted ankle? Dislocated shoulder? Broken bone?

Though it was annoying at times, Gideon had to admit that these displays were what helped to make their family whole. No one he had met so far seemed to understand the togetherness that they shared, the certainty and conviction that they held for each other. When other children talked about their parents it seemed to Gideon that they spoke of them as something separate, adults that lived apart from the children they created, sharing space, but not a full life. His family always felt different, unified, merged into a single entity. The feeling was so strongly embedded inside of him that Gideon still believed, as he had in childhood, that if he listened to his mother’s heart then put one hand on his father’s chest and one on his own, the three muscles would pulse as one, never skipping a beat between them.

“Do you think I could take the fern used for explosion and mix it with this to make a remedy I could throw?” Belle held up the newly created health potion as she spoke, her finger caressing the glass. “Then I could toss it at you or Gideon and it would give you some extra strength or stamina.”

Rumple’s eyes lowered, but Gideon knew he wasn’t looking at the bottle. “It wouldn’t hurt to try. Just don’t forget that Gideon fights close range.” His father’s body brushed past his mother as if demonstrating his words and she visibly shivered. “If you throw it at him in combat, you could heal the enemy as well.”

“The two of you are taking your role playing way too seriously,” Gideon piped in as he stood. His eyes darted from his mother to his father before quickly scanning the woods. He noticed his father’s pants seemed tighter and his mother’s chest was rapidly rising and falling. If he let them continue they would spend all of their time at the fair taking naps in the imagined woods. “I’ll scout ahead while you teach each other… whatever has to be learned.”

“Nonsense.” His father caught his arm to keep him from leaving. “We’re almost ready.”

Gideon let his eyes drop poignantly and chuckled out a knowing whisper. “Yeah. I can see that.” 

Flushing, but grinning, his father nudged him. “Some day soon you will have someone along with you and _I_ will get to point out your sudden need for some time alone together.”

“Not if we keep pretending Mother doesn’t understand magic,” Gideon whispered back playfully before walking away, leaving his father sputtering in surprise.

* * *

After several trips into the countryside in order to fulfill a multitude of requests, Rumple, Belle, and Gideon were properly outfitted to continue their journey along the main road. Gideon’s new armor shone in the sunlight and Belle’s bag of magical items was practically filled to bursting, as were their purses of gold coins. Rumplestiltskin had made certain that his family wanted for nothing before depositing all but a small amount into the local bank, where it was said that magic would transfer every cent forward to their next destination. He had given up on questioning the way this realm was designed to work and simply accepted the promise as a statement of fact. Gone were the worries that the magic of this place would disrupt the balance he had so carefully fought to maintain. Here, with his family, Rumplestiltskin felt free, even while the hints of magic drifted so easily around him.

He watched as Belle and Gideon chatted with a man just outside of the gate, each pointing to areas on their well-worn map while gesticulating wildly in one direction or another, and realized that for the first time in a very long time he felt no fear for their safety. It was true that many years of travel had passed between the final battle and their time in this realm, but a similar scene taking place anywhere else would have made the hairs stand up at the back of his neck, pulled his magic to be at the ready, and tried to convince him that danger would require him to keep his family safe. Now, having spent hours in this marvelous place, he could see the truth that he’d been denying for so many years. All the magic he needed was standing right in front of him.

“Papa!” Gideon called out eagerly across the distance that divided them. “We’ve found the next place to go!”

Standing beside their son, Belle’s eyes glinted with the same excitement and Rumple realized that he had given them the world by agreeing to join them here. He clutched his new bow tightly and grinned at them as he strode forward, eyes locked on the parchment the pair held between them. “So,” he asked them eagerly. “Where are we off to now?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was specifically written for September's Monthly Rumbelling moodboard, which can be found here:  
> https://a-monthly-rumbelling.tumblr.com/post/628056834024013824/prompts-for-september

“Oh yes, I know the legend behind this, all right. Word is that the white stag is often seen beneath a lone tree that never blooms, but bears fruit year round.”

The tavern’s owner turned the gold ring as he examined it, leaning close to Gideon and speaking in conspiratorial tones. The boy had handed over the object only after a nod from his father and now he bit his lip nervously, hoping to get it back. Enchantments etched into the inner band ensured that each swing of his sword would do twice the damage to a foe so long as it rested on his finger, and the enemies they had crossed paths with recently had been difficult to bring down, even with the help of his mother’s magic and his father’s near perfect aim.

“Do you have any idea where we could find this tree?” His mother asked, food forgotten in the presence of another puzzle to solve.

The man shook his head and plopped the ring down into Gideon’s upturned palm. “No one’s ever found it,” he said frankly. “All I know is the legend.”

“Right, well thank you,” his father replied with more cheer in his voice than could be seen on his face. “You’ve been most kind.”

“Stay and warm yourselves as long as you like.” The invitation came with a nod before their host departed.

Gideon hastily slid the ring onto his finger, then stared at the deer carved into the solid gold oval that was the item’s only true decoration. “Like looking for a needle in a haystack,” he sighed. “A lone tree in an area full of farmland? It _sounds_ easy enough to stick out at us, but this area is one great plain. How are we going to find it?”

“If we were anywhere else, I’d say luck,” his mother told him. “But we’re in the Tent of Infinite Adventure. I’m sure there’s a clue around here somewhere that will point us in the right direction. We just have to find it.”

“Well the clues are getting harder,” Gideon huffed before filling his mouth with more of the steaming meal. When he swallowed he felt the heat of it travel down his throat and settle inside of him, fighting the chill of the day from the inside out.

His father chuckled. “We can always turn back,” he said, gesturing at the tavern door. “All we have to do is be ready to leave and the tent is supposed to appear.”

“I think the fact that it hasn’t appeared to us yet might tell us a little something about how Gideon feels about that,” his mother answered.

“No,” Gideon agreed. “We solved the other mysteries, we can solve this one too. I can’t leave knowing this mythical creature is somewhere out there, waiting to be found. What if it has some magical power it can bestow on us or something?”

As soon as the end of the question had escaped him, Gideon turned a shocked glance his father’s way. “I’m sorry, Papa. I don’t mean that I have to have the magic, I just meant that-”

His father’s gloved hand came down to rest over top of his own, squeezing it gently. “I know, son. This is all part of the game, one I am glad you made me a part of. I truly am enjoying it.”

“All of it?” Gideon blinked over at him.

“All of it,” his father confirmed. “This adventure has shown me that even when I am surrounded by magic, I don’t need to be afraid of drawing on my own the way I did in the past. Now we know that the addiction, the part of the darkness that pulled me off of the path of the savior, doesn’t have the same hold on me that it used to. Without you, without your mother…” His free hand reached out to take Belle’s, squeezing it as he had Gideon’s. “I would never have seen this day.”

His mother’s eyes grew soft then and so full of love that Gideon half expected it to drip from the corners as some form of magical tear that would be either golden or rose colored, both colors a perfect compliment to the red winter cloak she now wore.

“We love you, Papa.” Gideon dropped his spoon to cover where his and his father’s hands joined. “We will always believe in you and we _will_ find a way to separate you from the darkness.”

“That’s a tall order, Gideon.” Rumple sighed and pulled his hands from theirs so that he could return to his stew, a move Gideon knew was meant to cover his insecurities. “We might find a way to break my bond with the dagger, but removing all the darkness?” He shook his head. “I don’t know how that can be done.”

“It was done before,” his mother insisted cheerfully.

“Yes, when Emma was the Dark One. The moment I took that darkness back inside of me-”

His mother reached a hand up to cup his face, food forgotten in her concern. “We are not starting a debate on the history of darkness,” she said seriously. “I am _certain_ you were the one meant to use darkness for good and because of that I know we will succeed. All right?”

Rumplestiltskin nodded sadly, his lip quivering as it always did when love rushed over him. Gideon’s father was a man of so many very deep emotions that it was almost painful to be with him at times. The man experienced everything so intensely that it seemed to simply radiate from his very core and consume him. There were times when Gideon could watch it happen and wonder if he would ever experience such pure feeling, longed to know what it was like, even if he had the opportunity only once and never more.

“So. Where else could we find some clues about this mysterious white stag?” His mother quickly changed the subject, deftly guiding them back to the task at hand. “We know that we are surrounded by flat farmland that is speckled with trees, but that this one stands alone.”

Staring at the meat in his stew, Gideon came to a realization and pointed at the chunk with the tip of his spoon. “If the tree always has fruit, we could look for animals. They’d be hungry in the winter and I bet they’d know where the food is.”

His father snapped his fingers and pointed proudly in his direction. “Excellent thinking.” Shifting in his seat next, he nodded in the direction of a man who sat by the window. “And I think I know just how to find them.”

* * *

Leaving his wife and son to finish their meal, Rumplestiltskin crossed the tavern to greet the stranger in traveler’s gear who kept a bow by his side. The man he approached was tall, with long brown hair and a thick beard of the same color. His solid build and rugged look spoke easily of someone used to doing a hunter’s work, as did his ability to blend in with his surroundings.

“Excuse me.” Rumple placed a gloved hand to the many layers that covered his chest and lowered his head in a brief bow of greeting. “I don’t mean to intrude, but my family and I are in need of some assistance and I thought that you might be just the person we need. Would it be possible to hire you as our tracker?”

The man in front of him chuckled, a deep and rich sound that was like thunder in the forest. “You want me to track something? In a land with farms as far as the eye can see? What are you missing? The dog that herds your sheep? The boy’s lost kitten?”

A twinge of past disappointments tightened around Rumple’s heart and the torments of his early life flashed before his mind. Once again he was the humble spinner, laughed at and ridiculed, the penniless coward who held nothing in his name but the insults flung at him by others. “I, that is, my wife and son…”

Rumple’s eyes flicked over to where his family sat, laughing, happy, and all but glowing from the excitement of the mystery they had yet to solve. In an instant he found himself again. Consumed by their very existence, he swelled with pride and turned back to the stranger. “We are on a quest,” he said with renewed confidence. “And if you are the hunter you appear to be, I believe your skills would be a great help to us.”

“A quest out in these parts could only mean one thing,” the man said, leaning his elbows on the table and narrowing his eyes. “You’re hunting the white stag.”

“We are,” Rumple told him. “And my son believes he’s found a way to the stag’s tree.”

The hunter sat back again, fingers rubbing his thumb as he pondered the situation put before him. “It is said that once captured, the stag will lead you to many riches.”

“Something we can confirm if we find it.” Rumple’s immediate reply was followed by an awkward silence in which the reality of his words hit him like a boulder to the head. The resulting wave of shock was so grand that he actually took a step back, his body stumbling to regain balance from the realization that came to him. The hunter was trying to make a deal. Naturally he wanted part of the treasure for himself and Rumple knew that, but his shock stemmed not from the attempt, it was _his_ automatic avoidance of the deal that changed everything. He felt as if he had just watched the man’s drink spill from the table and onto his boots, but simply didn’t care how wet they became.

Overjoyed by this revelation, a smile overcame him, spreading across his face and pressing into his chest until a chuckle emerged. The stranger scowled in confusion, eyes narrowing to slits in response to what he most certainly would have taken as a criticism of his ideals or personality and Rumple found himself shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” he managed through the laughter. “Thoughts on my own life amused me just then. I don’t mean to reflect on your character. Of course we are willing to give you a portion of the treasure, should there be one. As we would share our provisions.”

The hunter looked from Rumple to the table where Belle and Gideon sat, then let his eyes wander back again, sizing up the family as potential travel companions. “You all seem up to the journey.”

Rumple shrugged off what he chose to take as a compliment. “I assure you, we have already come a very long way and intend to continue on even further. My wife practices magic and my son is a warrior. We would be happy to count a hunter among our number for this part of our journey.”

The hunter stood suddenly, rising to a height that almost made Rumple’s head spin, and, after a sharp nod, thrust out his hand. “I accept your offer.”

“Thank you.” Rumple responded by clasping the larger man’s hand tightly and shaking it once. “Please, join us.”

“I prefer to gather my things,” the other man announced. “We will meet at the town gate in one hour. I will not linger if you are absent or unprepared.”

“One hour it will be,” Rumplestiltskin said to the retreating hunter, certain that the words never reached the man’s ears.

* * *

The family finished their meal immediately after Rumple returned to them, gathered their things, and hurried to the town’s main gate to await the hunter’s return. Through the entire process Belle eyed her husband with uncertainty. He acted as if he were suffering from dehydration or some illness that made him unstable on his own feet and her worry grew as they wandered the streets and he failed to avoid obstacles in his way. More than once he tripped over his own feet, several times he failed to avoid others in his path, and twice she had to guide him away from small carts that stood in the road, selling supplies to the adventurers that passed.

Finally having had enough, Belle called Gideon to a stop just inside the town’s gate, where several horses were stabled, then caught Rumple by the arm and pulled him against the wooden planks that made the outermost stall, knocking the wind from his chest in the process.

“Belle?” Rumple gasped at her, eyes wide. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter?” She glared at him, then waved her arm in the direction they’d come from. “You’re stumbling around like a drunk, Rumple. I think I’m the one who should be asking that question.”

Her husband blinked at her, then turned in surprise to Gideon, head swiveling back and forth as if he couldn’t decide who should hear the news first. As if in anticipation of his unspoken need, Gideon moved closer and placed himself at his mother’s side. “Papa…”

“I didn’t make a deal.”

It took Belle a long time to realize that the handful of words had been presented to her. They seemed to be made of some foreign language that she had no knowledge of whatsoever. “Deal” had been obvious, but her mind simply couldn’t fathom the rest.

Gideon responded before she could gather herself to reply. “The hunter… isn’t coming?”

“No, son. The hunter _will_ be here.” Rumple reached a hand out to cup the back of Gideon’s neck and draw him close, knocking their foreheads together with such urgency that Belle heard the crack of contact. “I didn’t make a deal, Gideon. I didn’t even _think_ to do it. He implied he wanted the stag’s treasure-”

“And you didn’t negotiate for it.” Belle’s voice cracked as realization struck. Her hand ran up Rumple’s arm to wrap around his body and draw him close. “I _knew_ the years were changing you and now _you_ see it too.” 

A tear escaped the corner of Belle’s eye and traveled down her cheek as the three of them clung to each other in their excitement. Rumple truly was a changed man, resisting the darkness and moving to the light. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that _he_ would be the one who could use darkness for good, turn dark magic to light, and be the first to reclaim their severed fate.

* * *

The hunter’s name was Cynrik Bearsong and he was quite possibly the most silent person Gideon had ever met. When he walked his boots made no sound, when he hefted his pack the cloth made no noise, and when he or his parents tried to talk the hunter shot angry glares over at them until their voices stilled. These were the perfect qualities for a hunter and tracker, though, and the Golds soon discovered that they had chosen the best in the area. Following the flights of birds overhead, Cynrik had tracked down several farms, each with some type of food that the birds would consume. Usually it was leftover grain for farm animals, but on occasion they found trees or bushes with winter berries that were apparently a favorite of certain breeds. Each location was given a thorough check by the group even though Gideon was certain that the tree they were searching for would not be near any man made structure, but none of the adventurers let the disappointment deter them. 

After an hour of hunting, they came across a flock of birds that their guide insisted were following a pattern to distant food. Landbound and unable to keep up with the winged creatures, Gideon and his family began their journey first by following the path the birds had taken, but were soon rewarded with the sight of another flock moving in the same pattern from a different location. It was that second cluster that brought sound from their guide.

“It’ll be this way,” Cynrik told them, pointing forward with his bow to a spot in the distance where the grass was yellow-green instead of the wintry brown that they had come across so far.

“Makes sense,” his father told them. “Whatever magic keeps the tree alive must spread to some distance around it.”

Unable to wait any longer, Gideon took off like a bolt of lightning, his armor clanking as he charged ahead. This vast plain away from all civilization was exactly the type of place he expected to find a tree of legend. No one would have traveled here and it would have remained secret to all but the few who accidentally stumbled on it. As he ran the grass grew greener and a speck of darkness appeared where the ground met the gray winter sky.

“I found it!” Gideon’s shout flew through the air, filling it with his excitement. He turned to see his parents and the hunter rush toward him, but couldn’t contain his patience. He moved on ahead of them even when his father and mother called for him to wait, and soon stood under the branches, palm pressed to the thin trunk, eyes turned upward to stare at the unusual fruit that dangled above them.

The fruit looked like a cross between raspberries and plums. Some were a deep red, others were so purple that they were almost black, but they all held the same size and shape. Round and plump, the fruit looked as if it would easily fill his hand, the lumpy clusters bulging with the promise of sweet juices that filled them. He reached up to touch the nearest fruit, squeezing it gently between his fingers to test its ripeness, then plucked it from the branch and brought it to his mouth.

“Gideon!” His father’s panicked voice called out through the exertion of fighting for air. “Don’t, son!”

He turned to see his parents running toward him, Cynrik at their side, until the hunter stopped short, eyes wide. Noticing the man’s hesitation, Belle stopped and turned to him, saying something that Gideon couldn’t hear. The hunter pointed and Gideon followed the line made by the man’s finger and staggered back at what he saw.

Somehow emerging from behind the trunk that would never have hidden it, the white stag stepped out into the open, head tilted downward to threaten Gideon with its antlers. The animal’s eyes were like fire, white sparks in the black depths danced and darted as if they were beings of their own. One leg stomped roughly at the ground, pounding out a rhythm that made Gideon’s heart skip nervously in his chest and forced his own feet backwards, away from the tree’s sheltering limbs.

“I… I’m sorry.” Stupidly Gideon lifted the fruit to one of the final branches he passed as if making the two things touch would join them and return the tree to wholeness. “I didn’t think-”

The stag stomped forward, antlers lowering at Gideon’s chest to urge him further away, then lifted with pride when the effort became a success.

Gideon hurried back to his parents, who were now almost upon him, and tucked himself quickly under his father’s side. “It isn’t what it appears to be, Papa,” he said in a rush. “There is something dark in its eyes.”

His papa’s strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him close, almost hiding him under his cloak as if the simple cloth would forever protect him. Stepping to Gideon’s exposed side, his mother rested her hand on the bag that held her many potions and spells, her worried eyes checking Gideon over before turning to study the stag in front of them. Gideon was certain he looked foolish, like a small child instead of the man that he was soon to become, but he didn’t care. The white stag was anything but what they had been told and he was now certain the creature had more power than anyone could have known of.

A voice drifted at them like fog in the wind. _Humans do not think. It is why I exist, why this tree lives through the endless winter, why the grass stays green. Your thoughtlessness is why this sanctuary exists for all of the animals of this land. You, small thing, have disturbed the area under my protection and you will pay for that trespass._

“The boy meant no harm,” Rumple tried to say, but any explanation he would have given drifted away in the wind that seemed to consume the stag, expand and lengthen it into something completely unknown.

His mother let out a breath of surprise. “Rumple… What is it doing?”

“Changing,” the hunter answered instead. “We must kill it now, before it grows to consume us all!” As he spoke the man readied an arrow and let it fly, but the tip simply stirred the air around the stag, passing through where the flank appeared to elongate, stretching thin just as the weapon passed harmlessly through.

Laughter followed. _I am already what was killed, hunter. I am what is left of everything that is no more. Trees cut for timber, animals hunted for their flesh, creatures starved and homeless, frozen in the cold. That is who I am. That and more._

“Maybe we can help you,” Gideon’s mother spoke out, head tipped to the side in her curiosity. “Plant a new forest or-”

 _Only your end will serve me,_ the voice answered right before the stag expanded in a great surge of movement. Its body contorted and morphed into a dragon-sized specter made of hooves, paws, shoulders and necks that were impossible for the mind to process. Gideon tried to focus on one point of the animal but found his eyes drawn elsewhere as another shape emerged from the fog before morphing again.

“How do we kill a ghost?” Gideon’s voice cracked with worry, even as he pressed his courage forward and stepped from his father’s side to draw his weapon.

The hunter shook his head. “I hunt the living. There are others in town who could have come with you to provide this sort of service, but not I.”

“It has to have a weakness,” Belle offered. “Maybe it is disturbed by wind or can be easily spread thin until it disappears.

His father turned to her, pointing at her pack. “Do you have spells for dispersal?” She nodded vigorously. “And something for neutralizing magical curses?”

“Not as many, but I have some,” she answered. “I can make more if I have the time.”

At that moment a concentration of animal mist appeared in front of Cynrik and the man was instantly thrown back about ten yards from where he stood. 

“I don’t think you have much of that,” Gideon said as he raised his shield. There wasn’t any way that a simple shield would stop a living mist, but the instinct was too great to ignore. Ahead of him another concentration formed and he swung at it, slicing it through with his sword. He heard the hiss of wind and the mist retreated, making him smile. “We might be able to keep it away, though, if we aim for the areas with the most density.”

His father nodded. “We will do that. You make as many of those potions as you can-”

“Then give them to each of you.” His mother spoke as if her words finished the plan, but the confusion on Rumple’s face told Gideon that distribution to people hadn’t been a part of the original idea. “If you spread them around the ground we could make them explode at once. Attack it from all sides.”

Love and admiration washed over his father’s face, but the creature left them no time for romance. Within a breath, the mist was concentrating around them again and Gideon had to grab his father’s arm and turn him to face the fields. “Backs to mother. We have to protect her.”

Recovering from the strike against him, Cynrik hurried to assist, the three men circling Belle while she worked. Arrows flew and Gideon’s sword slashed while the clank of glass and the electric fizzle of magic were heard behind them until eventually Belle called out from the ground. “Finished. There are six for each of us.”

Gideon’s father snatched up a handful of the small vials and pressed them to his son’s chest. “Take these and run to the other side of the tree. Try to spread them evenly.”

Nodding, Gideon quickly adjusted how he held his shield and used it as a sort of basket, rushing away with the blue and orange potions. Around him the mist swirled and spread, but he tried his best to ignore it, focusing instead on counting the number of strides he took between each drop. From the corner of his eye, he could see his mother and father doing the same while the hunter’s arrows flew overhead, easily dispelling any condensed fog he could see.

The air around him hissed and swirled in a way that made Gideon think the spirit or monster or whatever it was could actually experience pain whenever it was struck. A part of him felt sorry for the creature that had been created by the greed of people, but most of him would be glad to finally see the being dissipate into the air.

“Ready!” He called out once he’d let the final vial fall to the ground at his feet.

“Here too!” His father had taken over the task of shooting arrows into the gray air around them so that Cynrik could place his own potions along the ground. The hunter covered plenty of distance on his longer legs, checking for gaps in their coverage and extending the radius before suddenly spinning in place, bow at the ready.

Across the field from him, Gideon saw his mother take a deep breath and close her eyes in concentration. Potions weren’t the only types of magic she had learned along their way and it looked as if she were trying to recall a spoken spell or incantation. Her lips moved, though at this distance Gideon couldn’t hear what was being said and an instant later there was a great flash and bursts of color shot from the ground. A scream followed as blue and orange spun and twisted, then spread thin until the colors were no more.

The party stood, frozen in place but for the heaving of their chests, as the air around them cleared and the fruit from the tree shriveled and fell. Cautiously, Rumple approached the trunk, eyes darting in every direction, waiting for something to happen, but the way was clear and he soon waved them all over.

“It’s done,” Gideon’s father called out. “There is something in the tree.”

As a group, Gideon, his mother, and the hunter hurried to the now dying tree and watched as the trunk became gnarled and twisted, creaking as it expanded and split in two. Eyes wide in surprise, Gideon marveled at the golden glow that emerged, spilling out onto the ground at their feet.

“The tree is full of coin,” the hunter whispered before bending to pick up a piece and test it for purity.

Gideon’s mother ignored the cash reward, picking at small gems scattered among the round disks to examine them closely. “And enhancements,” she added, looking at Rumple. “I don’t know how I know, but I’m fairly certain I can add these to our armor and weapons.

His father nodded and turned to the hunter. “Take whatever gold you are able to carry, all of it, if that is your desire. My family has more need of the gems.”

Cynrik blinked at him in surprise. “This is more than I could spend in a lifetime.”

“We are each other’s riches,” Rumple answered back as he rested a hand on Gideon’s shoulder and gazed lovingly at Belle. “My family is all that I need.”

“Then I thank you,” the hunter told them. “And will be certain to pass along word of your kindness in my travels. You will, perhaps, find others more willing to assist you when the time is needed.”

Gideon’s father nodded and released him to clasp the hunter’s hand once in a brief farewell. “Wonderful,” he said kindly. “We would be grateful.”

As his parents and the hunter sorted out their treasures, Gideon caught sight of something large and dark at the tree’s center and reached in to pull it free. He met some resistance, but after a sharp tug, a single, petrified fruit released itself from the trunk’s interior. It was the same shape as the fresh ones that grew from the branches, but blackened and as solid as rock. Turning the petrified object in his hands, he examined it thoroughly for signs of life but found none. The smooth surface was pure, unmarked, and undamaged, the image of perfection except for its cold, darkened state.

Gideon looked up and around the desolate area and thought back on what the stag had said. If the words were true, so much sadness had happened here and he refused to believe that the grief must be eternal. If this was the heart of the tree, perhaps it was the heart of the magic, and if that were true, he believed there could still be hope.

Carefully he settled the fruit into his travel bag before moving to help his parents with the last of the gathering. Someone would know what to do with the tree’s heart and until Gideon found that person, he would keep it safe and be the protector of the sadness within.


End file.
